#❧ i have sharp things. ;; [ic] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misshoneybee · 3 years ago

Text

⟣ 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑆𝐸 𝐴𝑅𝐸 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝐴𝑁𝐷𝑆 𝑂𝐹 𝐹𝐴𝑇𝐸 ⟢

— 𝐼𝑉. 𝑆𝐴𝐿𝑈𝑇𝐸 𝑇𝑂 𝑀𝐸, 𝐼'𝑀 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝐴𝑀𝐸𝑅𝐼𝐶𝐴𝑁 𝑄𝑈𝐸𝐸𝑁

Masterpost — OFC Biography — Playlists — Chapter III — Chapter V

❧ Pairings | Post-Infinity War!Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

❧ Warnings | Mature content, explicit language, explicit content (lil bit of dirty talk, naked-female-clothed-male, fingering, oral (m-rec), vaginal sex, praise kink, slight suggestion of dom/sub.)

❧ Wordcount | ~8.2k

❧ Author’s Note | The one in which Steve learns what it means to draw Maggie like one of his French girls AKA more smut.

❧ Disclaimer | Dividers are by firefly-graphics. If you are a minor, or do not have your age in your bio, and I catch you interacting with this, you will be blocked. If you believe you were blocked unfairly, send me an ask with your url.

Late in the night, the city's asleep, Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep, Change my priorities, The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury ( King of My Heart | Reputation )

April 10, 2020

“I just don’t understand why tabloids are still around.” Steve grumbled from the kitchen. Stretching across the couch for the remote, Maggie paused the film, yet again, and sat up on her knees to lean over the back of the couch so she could watch him. An amused smile played on her lips; he’d been complaining about the encounter on and off since they’d arrived home over an hour earlier. “Don’t they have anything better to do?”

“Everyone has to make a living somehow.” She gave a half-hearted shrug, taking a sip of the white wine that had grown slightly warm since it had been poured. Wrinkling her nose at its sour taste, she sat it back on the end table before resting her chin on her crossed arms.

Maggie had always led quite a private life; she only had a handful of friends and her social media profiles were all but barren aside from the occasional birthday post. She’d never expected anyone to be interested in her, or her life at all, so seeing paparazzi out and about, sent to catch her, nonetheless, was the last thing that she’d expected that evening.

“Yeah, by invading people’s privacy.” Steve shook his head in annoyed disbelief, quietly replacing her glass of wine with one that he’d poured from the fridge.

With a grateful smile, she took a sip and gave a quiet hum of pleasure at its sharp sweetness. Maggie shifted to allow him to reclaim his spot on the couch, “It’s fine, Steve.”

As soon as the restaurant’s door had opened on their way out, the quiet night air had been filled with the repeated shuttering of a camera lens. The photographer had only caught her look of surprise and the fury in Steve’s eyes before he’d held up a hand to block the shot and murmured for her to keep her head down as he guided her to the car. He’d carefully closed her door behind her, before quickly moving to the driver’s side and tearing out of the parking lot to make their hasty escape home.

It had been bizarre, of course. When she’d asked who the hell that had been, Steve had finally, begrudgingly, disclosed the constant war of attrition he’d had with photographers. Since being pulled from the ice, his day-to-day life had been the subject of focus for many of the gossip rags; his love life, however, was usually the star of the show. In his years in the public eye, the tabloids had grasped at straws to make the hero seem like some Casanova; he’d been linked to random women that he’d passed by on the street and others that he’d only ever met in passing. Tonight, however, was the first time he’d actually been caught red-handed.

They’d finally gotten what they wanted, and it had taken everything in him to not follow the photographer and smash the camera before giving him a firm lecture on people’s right to privacy.

“You sure you’re okay?” With his back resting against the arm of the couch, he opened his arms wide for her to move closer and Maggie happily obliged. Resting between his spread legs, her back pressed against his warm chest, and she melted into his embrace. Burying his face in her hair, his breath tickled the nape of her neck as he murmured, “I don’t like how close he got to you.”

Tilting her head back until it rested on his shoulder, she looked at him upside down with a fond smile, “I’m fine, I promise.”

“I just wanted to pick up dinner.”

“I know.” Taking his hand, she pulled it to her lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it, placating him for the time being. Silently, she mused that he’d previously had the audacity to say that she had a one-track mind; it was like pulling teeth as she tried to make him let go of the incident.

Sinking deeper into his arms, she let out a soft sigh of contentment, “Focus on the movie. Turn that brilliant brain off for a little while.”

Pressing his lips together in a flat line, Steve sighed before giving her a short nod of appeasement.

So, what if a photo of them ended up on Twitter? She wasn’t going to run away from their relationship, not this time. She was done with that no matter how afraid she was, no matter how many times she’d run from her fears before. A picture wasn’t the end of the world. Everyone that they cared about already knew that they were a couple.

Well, everyone barring Tony and Pepper. Maggie still hadn’t figured out how to tell her uncle that she was dating Steve.

There was a piece of her that felt guilty for keeping it from him; she didn’t know everything that had happened between he and Steve but whatever it was had been enough to fracture their friendship. Of course, she had to tell him eventually, but she was still searching for the courage to do it despite the little voice in the back of her head telling her that she’d have to make a difficult choice if Tony maintained his stubborn façade.

Swallowing down her fears for the time being, she allowed herself to relax back into his body as he pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. She tried to take her own advice and pay attention to the film that she’d seen dozens of times before. When she found out that Titanic hadn’t even been in Steve’s little notebook of cultural cornerstones, she’d immediately taken it and scrawled it in.

Watching the iconic movie was a rite of passage, in her opinion. Like every girl her age, she’d had the two VHS tapes that the film came on, along with a massive crush on Leonardo DiCaprio. It was slightly embarrassing that she’d nearly worn out the tapes from rewatching them far too many times.

Even more embarrassing was that, at nearly thirty, Maggie still got misty-eyed at the classically corny scene of Jack and Rose standing at the bow of the ship. She’d become so entranced by the familiar scenes that she didn’t really register their contents until several minutes later when she felt Steve’s breath catch as Rose dropped her robe to the floor while standing before Jack.

The corner of Maggie’s lips twitched up into a smile at his reaction. It was hardly the most scandalous scene that they’d watched together but there was something so vulnerably intimate as the redhead told Jack that she wanted to be painted wearing the necklace, wearing only the necklace.

“Is that what you meant?” Steve’s low voice was almost a ghost in her ear and Maggie shivered at his playfully intense tone.

Raising an arched brow, she turned her head to peer over her shoulder, spotting his mischievous smirk and narrowing her eyes at him. “What?”

“You said that before.” He nodded to the screen where the unforgettable scene was still playing out; her eyes flickered between Jack’s hands sketching and Steve’s amused face.

“When!?” Maggie half-turned in his embrace to get a better look at him, bewildered as she flicked through the rolodex of her memory.

Steve’s grin was almost Cheshire cat-like, ready to devour her before she even had a chance. “Your birthday, last year.”

“How do you even remember what I said?” With a slight tilt of her head, she tried to recall the day before the memory finally hit her. She’d made the off-hand comment when he gave her his first drawing of her; she’d been grateful that he hadn’t understood the reference then, but now he did.

“I always remember, sweetheart.” A glimmer of tenderness had snuck beneath the surface of his grin, and he squeezed her hands gently. Shaking her head with a small smile, she placed a small kiss on his cheek before turning back to watch the movie once again.

Only a moment passed before he murmured softly in her ear, “But you didn’t answer my question.”

Maggie leaned to the side to look at him again, “Hm?”

“Is that what you meant?” At her puzzled expression, Steve continued slowly, teasingly, “You want me to draw you like one of those French girls?”

When realization struck, her fair cheeks turned crimson at the thought. Mouth gaping, she looked like a fish out of water as she tried to find any words. Of course, there was some appeal to the proposition; it was almost shameful how flustered it made her.

Rolling her eyes, she gave a quiet laugh and turned back to the movie once again, willing her blush to fade as she mumbled, “Shut up.”

“I could.” At the two words he whispered into her ear, it was her turn for a breath to catch in her throat. “Let me draw you, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot below her ear, his lips slowly beginning to trail down further.

“Steve…” It was almost reflex as she tilted her head, her eyes fluttering closed as she allowed him access to the smooth slope of her neck.

Steve chuckled at the trace of neediness that came through when she moaned his name. Large hands that had rested on her waist grazed across her abdomen slowly, gently as they drifted to the hem of her dress. Another pleasant shiver went down her spine as the light touch of his fingers trailed just beneath the hem, stoking a warmth deep in her core that slowly began to glow like embers from a fire.

As his hands smoothed up the skin of her thighs, it was as though her logical mind had completely malfunctioned. His hands (along with his tongue and other parts of his anatomy) had quite the tendency of turning the put-together woman into putty. After several moments, as his fingers finally crept up far enough to brush the lace edge of her panties. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, his touch forced a sigh from her lips and she finally nodded, whispering, “Okay.”

It took no time for Steve to stand and hoist her up easily, as if she weighed nothing, before tossing her over his broad shoulder. Her nerves and the eager anticipation became one as she giggled excitedly while he carried her down the hall in a beeline for his bedroom, gently kicking her feet in the air. Unable to help herself as she was nearly eye level with it, Maggie gave a teasing squeeze to the firm muscle of his ass.

“Hey!” Steve grunted just before he landed a solid smack to her’s after shutting the door behind them. At the sharp sting, Maggie let out a squeak and her eyes flew open. A red handprint was definitely blooming across her skin,

She laughed almost incredulously as he deposited her on to the couch that rested against the wall of his room. “Did you just spank me!?”

He raised his eyebrows, his blue eyes sparkling roguishly as he gave a small shrug, “Don’t start something you don’t want finished.”

“Never said I didn’t want it finished…” Maggie mumbled, sitting up and resting her weight on her hands behind her with a small pout on her full lips.

“Maybe another night.” He shot her a quick wink that only served to deepen her blush further. What in the world had she unlocked within that man?

Steve nodded down at her, shuffling through his desk in search of his charcoal pencils, “Now, I think you’re wearing far too much if I’m supposed to draw you like a French girl…”

As he trailed off, Maggie sat up completely, slightly surprised at the request, “Wait, really?” Initially, she’d thought he’d been joking, that it was just a ruse (that he didn’t even need) to get her back into bed.

“Hm?”

“You really want to—” With her throat suddenly dry, Maggie nodded to the thick weighted paper in his hand; the charcoal pencils were dwarfed in the other. “With me?”

“Only if you want to.” The corners of his mouth ticked up into a smile and he shrugged.

His offer had been completely serious; he’d heard about nude modeling back in the day, but he’d never attended an art class like that. But, as he’d watched the scene in the movie play out, he could only picture Rose with dark wavy hair and molten chocolate eyes—he was only able to see Maggie.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed her lips together as she contemplated the proposal. He wanted her to pose nude so he could draw her and there was something about the notion that she just couldn’t seem to turn away from. Placing a cool hand on the flushing skin of her neck, she nodded slowly, holding his gaze as she finally answered, “Okay. Yes, I want to.”

Standing from her spot on the couch, she watched as Steve methodically prepared his workspace. He moved about the room, selecting one of his dozens of vinyl albums to rest on the turntable before the needle descended upon it; something he typically did when he wanted to lose himself in his hobby for a brief time. Quiet music filled the air as he continued, setting out the pencils of various weights and sizes on a table like surgical instruments on a tray. The tufted leather, reading chair was positioned just in front of a lamp, parallel to its sofa counterpart where she would be resting.

Pulling her hair to the side of her neck, she turned her back to Steve as she asked softly over her shoulder, “Could you unzip me?”

She felt a jolt of static run up her spine as he slowly dragged the zipper down to the small of her back, exposing her skin inch by inch. Without her needing to ask, he silently hooked his fingers beneath its shoulders to guide the sleeves down her arms, kneeling as the navy fabric slipped from her body like falling water. Using a hand, she braced herself on his shoulder as she stepped out of the offending article that he refused to allow to fall on the floor; his eyes never left her’s as he tossed it on to the bed where it fell into a heap.

The quiet moment surrounded her with an inexplicable warmth; his eyes and touch were loving and gentle as he helped to shed her layers, both physical and emotional. Taking her hand, he pressed a kiss to her palm in a silent ‘I love you,’ and she ran her fingers through the soft mess of his dirty blonde hair in return.

Steve’s warm hands moved back to her hips as his slowly darkening eyes flicked to the champagne lace that was taut around her torso. Making quick work of the hooks, she slipped it off, dropping it on the floor somewhere behind him.

From where he kneeled, his eyes silently asked the question that he already knew the answer to. With a coy smile, Maggie nodded, and he slowly rolled the lace down her legs, tossing it aside once she was finally, completely bare before him.

As he stood, Steve didn’t break their shared gaze; his spanning hands drifted from her hips to her waist, and back in a soothing gesture. Though a part of her knew that she should feel vulnerable, Steve’s presence was nothing but comforting. Every time he looked at her, it was as if he was memorizing each piece, like she was something to be studied and revered.

Reaching up to unclasp the thin, gold, threadlike chain of her necklace, Steve’s hand stilled her’s and she raised an eyebrow in a silent question.

“I know it’s not the Heart of the Sea—”

“Ocean.” Maggie corrected him with a small smile.

“But I think you should keep it on.” He continued, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. At her nod, he readjusted the heavy locket so it rested daintily in the center of her bare decolletage like a golden beacon that directed the viewer’s eye. Taking her hand, he guided her back to the makeshift setup and watched as she laid back on the cool leather that set off goosebumps across her body.

Maggie couldn’t help but smile as he posed her, making the slightest adjustments to the angles of her arms and legs and tilting her face one way before changing it to another. He moved the throw pillows that were placed on the couch, tucking one beneath her ribs and another behind her head. It was as though he’d become completely objective in just seconds; she was no longer his girlfriend, she was a piece of art that he was hellbent on recreating.

Manipulating her body, every touch and drag of his hands across her skin left behind sparks their wake, making her already warm skin feel even hotter. Eventually, she found herself posed nearly as Rose had been on screen; her thighs pressed together, legs just slightly offset as she rested on her hip, her arms lazily placed above her head with dark waves tumbling down around her shoulders.

There was no more hiding; he could see the rise and fall of her uncovered breast as she took in a deep breath, letting out an exhale of a nerve-laden laugh, “Just…make sure you hide it when you’re done so no one else sees me naked, okay?”

She was only partially kidding.

Steve chuckled, taking his seat on the chair, and grabbing his lovingly used drawing pad. Immediately, he began to make short strokes as he sketched out her lithe shape and those surrounding her, his eyes moving back and forth between the paper and her.

“I’m not gonna let anyone else see you like this, sweetheart.” As he met her eyes over the edge of the paper, his hand stilled for only a moment; the rumble of his deep voice and possessive glint in his eyes almost sent a shiver down her spine despite the sweetness behind his smile, “You’re mine.”

Maggie’s fears faded into background noise as she lay on the settee in a comfortable silence; she was left to stare at him as he did the same in return. She couldn’t help how her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt before getting back to work, revealing the corded muscle of his forearms that she found unspeakably attractive. Focusing on the beat of her heart, she absentmindedly listened to the warbling vintage voice that played from the speaker as he stayed engrossed in his work.

The way his stormy eyes traced the contours and arches of her body was mirrored by each stroke of his pencil brushed against the rough paper. The curve of her waist and dip of her cupid’s bow, the slightest bit of asymmetry between her breasts, the tattoos on her arm and wrist; it was as though Steve was becoming intimately reacquainted with a body that his hands had already roamed every inch of.

Working quickly, her narrow hourglass figure took shape on the paper, but the minutes seemed to pass like hours as she watched. Slowly, his sure strokes became fewer and further between as it became more and more complete. After a while, he set the pencil down and rubbed the smudged charcoal from his fingers onto a nearby towel. Looking over the piece once more, Steve paused, admiring it with a tender smile before finding her expectant gaze and giving a small shrug, “Looks pretty perfect to me.”

Rolling her eyes, Maggie slowly sat up. Eager to cover herself with something, she spared a quick look around the pristine room. From the far side of the couch, she grabbed one of the shirts that he’d not yet hung up and slipped her arms through the sleeves, pulling it tight around her torso as he crossed the room with the paper in hand.

“I think you might be a little biased.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” He grinned with a teasing raise of his eyebrows. The cushion sank in as he took a seat and she slid closer to him, tucking herself into his side as he turned the paper so she could see it. Until then, Maggie hadn’t realized just how nervous she’d been as he’d worked; the intimacy of being perceived bare before him was nothing short of intimidating—especially when he had the audacity to look like Adonis himself, carved from marble and fit for Olympus.

What if he’d seen every flaw that she spotted when she looked in the mirror? The dimpled skin of her thighs, the stretch marks on her breasts, the dark circles under her eyes—she could list them endlessly but when her eyes fell upon the paper, she saw none of them.

She saw herself through his eyes.

The delicate posture of her hands, the languid lines flowing from her breasts to her hips, dark eyes that, even in black and white, radiated heat and something sweeter like hot cocoa on a frigid winter’s evening. Maggie brushed a fingertip across the edge of the paper, her eyes not leaving the fluid lines as she murmured, “It doesn’t even feel like it’s me.”

“I promise it is.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, his voice low as his lips began to descend once more. Across the smooth line of her jaw, down the warm skin of her neck as he gripped her waist and pulled her onto his lap. With a concerned hum, she had to pull away to carefully place the drawing on the end table so it wouldn’t get wrinkled or ripped.

Steve didn’t pay it any mind; he knew her body well enough that he could recreate its beauty with his eyes closed and one hand behind his back. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her impossibly close and whispered into the shell of her ear, “My beautiful girl.”

Maggie adjusted herself on his lap as his lips met hers in a searing kiss, the tension from the evening finally meeting its maker. The rough fabric of his slacks scratched against the delicate skin on the inside of her thighs, but she could hardly feel it as the large hand spanning her back pressed her body into his.

Steve let out a low groan into her mouth when her teeth caught his bottom lip teasingly before letting it go, allowing her tongue to soothe the gentle bite that she’d left. She could feel his slowly growing length pressing against her thigh and she moaned softly as one of his hands skated beneath the open fabric of his shirt she’d shrugged on. Slowly, he pushed it from her shoulders, and it fell in a puddle on the floor. His hands fell to her breasts, his thumb just ghosting over its hardened peak before giving it a soft pinch.

Letting out a quiet whimper at the pleasurable pain, Maggie shifted her hips down. She could feel Steve’s smirk against her lips when he felt her rock against him.

One of the hands on her breast drifted down slowly, finally finding its way to the sticky wetness that had begun to coat the inside of her thighs. Humming quietly, his thumb easily zeroed in on her clit and Maggie squirmed in his arms, moaning softly into his mouth; the teasing digit ran up and down her slit, collecting her wetness and unhurriedly spreading it around.

“Mm, my sweet, needy girl.” A dark chuckle fell from his lips as he pulled back teasingly. As he traced his index finger around the swollen bud, his thick thumb sank into the heat of her tight entrance at a glacial pace.

At its intrusion, Maggie let out a surprised gasp that quickly melted into a pleasured ‘oh’ as his fingers began to work in tandem, teasing and pulling her apart slowly. She could feel his hot breath against her ear as his deep voice quietly groaned, “This all for me, sweetheart?”

A needy moan broke free as she took his face in her hands and pulled him back in, needing his lips on her’s. Grinding her hips into his hand as their mouths met in a bruising, enthusiastic kiss, Maggie silently willed him to give her more. Her hands fell to his chest, gripping his shirt tightly and pulling him closer as her tongue dipped into his mouth.

Still waiting for her response, Steve couldn’t stop the teasing smirk that formed as his finger stopped and his thumb stilled inside of her slick channel, drawing a soft whine as he pulled his lips away. Withholding her pleasure until she could finally give him an answer, his digits stayed where they were, unmoving as he waited.

He loved slowly breaking down the strong exterior Maggie always fought to put up, making her soft and pliant and needy, willing to surrender herself to him as she wouldn’t to anyone else. His eyes roved down her naked form before trailing back up slowly and meeting her’s; the darkness of his pupil had all but eclipsed the surrounding blue of his eyes.

Teasingly, Steve raised a brow and cocked his head to the side as he asked again, his voice still dangerously low, “Is it?”

Releasing her grip on his shirt, she pressed her palms flat against the hard planes of his clothed chest as her forehead fell to rest against his; Maggie nodded shamelessly, “Yes—fuck.”

At her response, Steve’s digits immediately resumed their movement for just a moment before he dragged his thumb against the ridged flesh just inside her entrance as he pulled out, painfully slow, taking note of the “oh” that spilled from her lips.

Cupping her face, he brushed the glistening finger against the kiss swollen flesh of her bottom lip that slowly twisted from its pout, at the loss of his touch, into a smirk. Before he could question her impish expression, she caught the digit between her lips with a wicked look in her eye; he couldn’t help the way he went slack jawed as he watched her.

Sucking on it teasingly, Maggie wrapped her small hand around his wrist to hold it still as she swirled her tongue around his finger, bobbing her head slowly and hollowing out her cheeks. She watched him intently as she let out a teasing moan at the musky taste of herself before her eyes fluttered shut.

His mind faltered, imagining her lips wrapped around his throbbing member as she let out a low hum. Regaining his wits, Steve slowly pulled his thumb from her mouth, watching as a thin thread of saliva connected it to her lips. He closed his eyes, letting out a groan at how painfully hard she’d quickly been able to make him as he tilted his head back and took a deep breath.

Letting out a giggle, Maggie murmured his name teasingly before her mouth descended on the exposed skin of his throat. She could feel the thrum of his pulse against her delicate lips when she’d stop, sucking gently enough not to leave a lasting bruise.

The last thing that they needed was Captain America getting caught with a hickey.

As her mouth worked down his neck, her deft hands made quick work of his belt before undoing the button and zipper that were struggling to contain the growing bulge of his hardened cock. She sank to the cold, hardwood floor between his legs and his eyes finally snapped open again as he felt her move.

At the sight of her on her knees, he groaned quietly, brushing a hand over her cheek as she tilted her head into his touch, “Mags—”

Each time she’d tried to reciprocate the gift of his talented tongue—and god, was it a gift—Steve had passed on the offer in favor of sinking his cock into her tight cunt. Of course, she’d never complain but she wanted to make him feel as good as he always made her, so if she had to beg, so be it. She was already on her knees anyway and she’d craved to have him in her mouth since the first time she’d seen his thick length spring out of his boxers.

Shaking her head at his hesitance, her messy curls bounced with the action, “I want to suck your cock…” Maggie trailed off before she swallowed, quenching her dry throat as her hands leisurely dragged up his thighs to rest over the thick bulge that strained against the restrictive material. Stroking it slowly with a light touch, she looked up at him through her doe-eyed lashes as she cooed, “Please?”

At the sweet look in her eye and the smallest pout on her wet lips, he finally nodded as his mind went all but blank. Biting her lip in an attempt to stifle her triumphant smile, Maggie tugged on the waistband impatiently before he helped to shove them down just far enough for her to slip his throbbing length from its fabric prison.

At once, she dragged her hot tongue across her palm, wetting her hand before wrapping it firmly around the base of his cock, ruddy and swollen with need. He groaned, his hips giving a sharp jerk as she stroked her hand up and down his length several times; finally, shr leaned forward, her tongue flicking out to lick the pearl of salty precum that had begun to leak from his slit.

“Fuck, Maggie.”

At his broken moan, her confidence grew as she dragged her tongue along the thick vein that ran from the base to his sensitive tip. Reaching its crown, she swirled her tongue around it before engulfing it in the wet heat of her mouth.

Silently, Maggie mused that he certainly had the longest cock of any man she’d ever been with. Of course, she’d been intimidated the first time that she’d seen it, but she’d never been one to turn down a challenge. Seconds felt like hours as she took his length deeper in her mouth, inch by inch until he hit the back of her throat. At the unfamiliar sensation, she gagged and pulled back, her lips slick and swollen as saliva dripped down her chin and she gasped for air.

His brows were drawn together in concern as his eyes shot open, spotting the way her’s had begun to water, “Baby—”

Shaking her head, she used the back of her hand to wipe away some of the spit from her mouth before brushing her messy hair from her face. Her golden eyes were determined as she grasped one of his hands and brought it to the crown of her head, allowing him to thread his fingers through her hair, “I can do it.”

His other hand that rested on her face brushed a thumb gently over her cheekbone as his eyes peered into her’s and she nodded. She wanted to do this for him so she tried again. His hand on her head guiding her slowly up and down his length, careful not to take him the whole way into her throat as she had before.

It was something that she’d obviously need to work towards, and Steve couldn’t deny that he couldn’t wait to help teach her just how far she was able to take him.

The nails of her hands that rested on his thighs, gently pressed into his skin as she hollowed her cheeks around him. “Yeah, that’s my perfect girl.” The new suction forced a grunt from his mouth and tilted his head back, letting out a broken moan, “Sucking my cock like a goddamn dream.”

Preening at his praise, she kept her eyes on him, watching his blissed-out expression and the way that his Adam’s apple bobbed as he moaned and spoke, taken apart by the heat of her mouth.

It wasn’t often that she was able to make him turn off his brain; always working, always focused on what came next. Though she was on her knees between his legs, aching bruises inevitable come morning, she felt powerful making him surrender to whatever she could give him.

Moaning around his shaft, Maggie began to bob her head faster, up and down, as the slick hand around his base gently toyed with the heavy weight of his balls for just a moment before slipping it down between her thighs, seeking some relief of her own.

Maggie spread her knees apart slightly further as they pressed into the cold, wooden floor and she easily sank two fingers between her drenched folds. Letting out a whimper around his thick length, she continued the constant motion of her mouth as her eyes fluttered shut; she plunged her digits in and out quickly, chasing her pleasure. The wetness dripped from her and covered her hand as she ground her hard clit into her palm, fucking herself in tandem with her mouth around his cock.

At the sound that came from her mouth, sending vibrations around his cock, his eyes flickered opened lazily and quickly zeroed in on the spot between her thighs, hearing the wet noises from both her mouth still on him and her hand. He could feel his peak quickly approaching as he watched her fingerfuck herself, seeking her own release as she forced him towards his.

The hand on her head threaded its fingers into her hair and gently pulled her mouth from his aching cock. Maggie’s red lips were swollen and wet, her tongue tracing over them as she released his length with a soft pop, the hand between her legs stilled as she pulled back. Her delicate brow furrowed as she looked up at him, worried she’d scraped her teeth across the delicate skin or squeezed too hard in her distracted daze, “Did I…”

Shaking his head, he couldn’t help but smile at her need for reassurance when she trailed off. He chuckled as he fought even out his breath, “You were so good, sweetheart.”

Easily, Steve lifted her back onto his lap and she gave a giggle as he pulled her close, her legs spreading to accommodate the width of his hips as his hand tracing down the line of her spine before finding and gently squeezing her plump ass. She could feel her wetness slowly soaking through his pants but neither cared; his breath was hot against her ear as he murmured lowly, “But I wanna come inside you, baby.”

After their first several times together, they’d finally discussed birth control aside from condoms. Maggie had been on the pill since she was a teenager and they were both clean so there was little need to use ‘prophylactics,’ as Steve had once referred to condoms. (She still hadn’t allowed him to forget the moment.)

Sitting up on her knees as their foreheads rested against one another, he watched as her hand, still wet with her arousal, slowly stroked him several times before lining it up at her tight entrance. Guiding his length inside of her, she sank down slowly, taking him in until he bottomed out inside of her; a quiet hiss came from her lips as the pain from the delicious stretch that she’d come to love melted into a deep pleasure that filled her with warmth.

The muscles in her stomach clenched at the sudden fullness and she moaned softly, “Oh god, Steve…”

His hands on her soft skin tightened and he let out a grunt as she rocked her hips experimentally. A whimper fell from her lips as she languidly grinded against him, her clit brushing against the coarse thatch of trimmed hair just above his cock each time she sank down on to him. Together, they easily found a frenzied pace before his hands around her waist quickly took over. All but lifting and sinking her back down on his rigid length repeatedly, Steve’s hips continued to snap up into her’s.

“That’s my good girl. Look at how good you're taking my cock, like it was made for you. Fuck, baby...” He trailed off with a groan, capturing her lips once again and cutting off the steady stream of curses that she’d continued to whimper while he bounced her on his lap as if she weighed nothing.

His good girl. Made for her.

Gripping his shirt with shaking hands, Maggie held on tightly as he bucked beneath her thighs; absentmindedly, she worried that her nails would shred the fabric if she held on any tighter. Her entire body felt like a livewire as Steve fucked into her soaked cunt at an unrelenting pace, his fingers squeezing her the pillow of her waist almost painfully tight.

He punctuated each of his words with a firm thrust, “Pussy’s so goddamn tight for me.”

Maggie gasped as the head of his cock bumped against the sensitive spot deep within her core and she clenched around him, bracing herself against his shoulders. He was merciless, his pace causing her voice to shake as she drew out her word with a throaty moan, “Fuck…”

He couldn’t help but smirk as he tilted his pelvis to continue pounding against the secret spot; a gush of her wetness leaked down around the base of him, soaking the pants that had only been shoved down to his midthigh in their haste.

“So big, oh god—” It felt inexplicably dirty as she rode him, fully exposed to the cold air of the room as her breasts bounced wildly with each thrust whilst the only part of him exposed was his length that was sheathed deep within her.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just like that. You’re so good for me, riding me like this, letting me see this sweet body.” Steve let out a deep groan as she clenched around him again at the praise. He knew she was getting close; he’d been tamping down his own release since she’d enveloped him in her wet heat.

One of his hands brushed down over the sensitive skin of her abdomen until his thumb found her swollen button once again. The muscles in her thighs were on fire as she chased her climax; she gave a broken whimper of his name that grew into a cry as his thumb matched their pace. As it made concentrated circles around her clit before finally giving a gentle tug to the hood and brushing over it, she squeezed her eyes closed as she felt the coil tightening. She squirmed in his lap with a whimper, almost needing to pull away from the intense pleasure that he was giving her.

“Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you come on my cock, feel you squeeze me so tight, baby.” Steve breathed into her ear and she obeyed.

At once, the tension snapped, and Maggie let out a choked sob at the way her release washed over her. “Yes, Steve! Oh, god—”

She couldn’t stop the tremors wracking her as every muscle convulsed with the sudden influx of pleasure. With her eyes squeezed shut, she could feel the way her back arched and her toes curled before her walls began to spasm and contract around his girth, squeezing him tightly as she finally reached her peak.

“Yeah, that’s it. That's my good girl, coming for me…” He mumbled, watching as he pumped into her, her lips gripping his cock with each stroke in and out.

Not stopping, she continued to sink back down on to him, obscene wet noises filling the room as she rocked her hips against his recklessly, the stimulation almost becoming too much for her as she powered through. One of Steve’s hands threaded into her hair at the nape of her neck and she gave a depraved moaned when he pulled it gently, crashing his lips into her’s as he rutted into her erratically.

She let out a gasp against his mouth, granting his tongue entrance between her lips in a sensual kiss that almost felt out of place in their frenzied passion. In a punishing rhythm, his hips snapped against her’s as heat pooled in his lower abdomen, his balls tightening as he approached the edge of the cliff.

Hips stuttering, Steve bottomed out and finally spilled himself into her with a broken groan. Her still-fluttering walls clenched around his throbbing cock, begging for his release. With her nails digging into his back through his shirt, she felt him empty himself inside her, sending another aftershock of an orgasm through her once again.

Steve held her close as his movements slowed to a stop, wrapping himself around her as her hips gradually stopped twitching from the overstimulation of her aching cunt; she knew she’d be sore come morning, her pussy nearly rubbed raw from his relentlessness but she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

He buried his face in her messy hair that still smelled like the coconut of her shampoo from that morning with whispers of ‘you did so well, sweetheart’ and ‘that's my good girl.’

After a moment, he moved to pull his softening cock from her but she whined softly and wrapped her arms around him tighter, not yet wanting to lose his touch. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d come so hard; it was like all of the fight and energy had been zapped from her, leaving her pliant and soft within his embrace.

The rumble of his quiet laugh was magnified as she buried her face in his neck. Her muffled voice finally broke the silence, “Mm, not yet.”

“Love you, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, a smile in his voice that she couldn’t see but knew it was there anyway.

Maggie had teased him Steve being prudish far too many times before, but she was damned if he didn’t continue to prove her wrong. He was merely a private person; he didn’t need public displays to proclaim his affection or to know that he had her’s.

She knew there was a difference between prudish and private; someone prudish wouldn’t be caught dead whispering the wicked words that fell from his mouth into her ears when he pounded away inside of her. There was no denying that maybe a part of her teased him just to antagonize him, just to receive this as an end result.

Sweaty hair plastered to her forehead, his cologne rubbed off against her skin, his cum slowly dripping from her.

“Love you too.” She mumbled into his neck, her lips brushing the skin there softly.

Maggie could feel herself quickly growing tired as his warm hand rubbed soft, comforting circles on her back, making her melt into him. The appealing prospect of sleeping in his arms was overpowered by the way the muscles in her legs cramped from their abuse. Finally, several minutes later, Maggie unhurriedly peeled herself from his torso and leaned back to look at him.

Hair messy, lips swollen, mascara running, there was no way she didn’t look thoroughly wrecked. He brushed some of the frizzy hair from her face with an affectionate smile, his hand cupping her face and thumb brushing her cheek gently before giving her a heartachingly gentle kiss.

Taking in her beautifully debauched form one last time, Steve finally stood, carrying her to the bathroom as he murmured, “Let’s get ready for bed, sweetheart.”

April 11, 2020

“Good morning, lovebirds!”

It was just before nine that Steve’s bedroom door was flung open, smacking the doorstop with a loud crack and letting in the daylight along with their bleached blonde flat-mate. At the sudden noise, Maggie shot up from the bed, clutching the sheet against her bare chest to preserve any modesty that she had left as her brain struggled to catch up with her body. Steve, also jolted awake by the abrupt sound, yanked Maggie closer, his mind perceiving a threat and preparing to fight until he realized it was only Natasha.

Shoving her glasses over her bleary eyes so she could finally decipher the blob in the doorway as her friend, Maggie’s face was burning red when she was finally able to sputter out with a chastising hiss, “Natasha!”

At the same time that she spoke, an exhausted Steve began lecturing, “Jesus Christ, Romanoff. We have boundaries—”

She looked at the couple with an annoyed expression before cutting the super soldier off, “Oh, don’t be so coy.” Steve raised an eyebrow at his peer, prompting her to roll her eyes as she continued, “You two may think you’re being quiet most of the time but trust me, you’re really not.” Natasha deadpanned, her lips pressed into a flat line as she waited for either of them to argue.

The couple made eye contact for a moment and silently agreed to cut their losses. They’d certainly not been quiet the night before. Sighing, an embarrassed Steve ran a hand through his hair and gave her a pointed glare, “What the hell do you need, Romanoff?”

With her trademark smirk, thoroughly entertained at the entire interaction thus far, she held up a tabloid, “Guess who’s on the cover of your least favorite magazine?”

Approaching the bed, she frisbeed the gossip rag onto the bed and it landed on their laps between them. On the cover of the new edition of The Daily Bugle was a photo of Steve and Maggie from the night before. It was the first snapshot that the photographer had gotten, the only one showing Maggie’s unobstructed and surprised face and Steve’s furious expression as they’d exited the restaurant, hand in hand.

“Dammit, Jameson.” Steve sighed, picking up the magazine and getting a better look at the cover they’d been subjected to. His brows were drawn together as Maggie pulled it from his grip with one hand, the other keeping the sheet tucked securely around her body as she flicked through the pages. Sighing, he started apologetically, “Mags, I’m sorry—”

He was cut off by a short snort that quickly dissolved into laughter as she looked at the headline. It wasn’t ideal in the slightest but she couldn’t help but find it humorous. Surprised, Steve watched as her bare shoulders shook violently with the giggles that bubbled up and spilled over as she waved the flimsy paper, “Our Captain Finds His Miss America? Who writes this?”

“You haven’t even gotten to my favorite part.” Natasha couldn’t stop her grin as Maggie raised an eyebrow. Flopping down beside her, crisscrossing her legs and completely unphased that her friends were both nude beneath the covers, Natasha flipped to the accompanying article and quickly found the spot on the page that she was looking for. With a betrayed expression, she teased, “I can’t believe you two didn’t invite me to your secret destination wedding last month.”

“What!?” Steve’s bewildered expression was almost comical as his eyebrows shot up towards his messy hairline.

Natasha gave him a serious look as if it were obvious, “Don’t you remember your own wedding? When you were in Europe, Maggie tagged along and you two got hitched.”

Grabbing the magazine from her hands, his eyes scanned the page until he found the paragraph that he sought out.

‘…Sources say that the couple was caught canoodling in Brussels when Captain America, Steve Rogers, was sent on a peacekeeping operation last month. As a prominent figure in the Stark Relief Foundation, Marguerite Hall (alleged goddaughter of Stark Industries’ own, Tony Stark) came along on the mission and the new couple can now be called newlyweds! The pair wed in a small, intimate ceremony in which our source, who wishes to remain anonymous, recalls seeing…’

After reading the small print on the page, Maggie couldn’t stop cackling, tears forming in her eyes as she became lightheaded, unable to breathe as she continued to laugh. At her reaction, Natasha was hardly doing better; neither woman could recall the last time they’d laughed this hard.

Steve rubbed a hand across his forehead, feeling the beginning of a headache despite his mild entertainment with the situation at hand. After the friends had calmed down enough and their giggling became more sporadic, Steve eventually sighed with a shake of his head, “Natasha?”

“Hm?”

“Out.” He was firm as he gestured to the door that was still wide open; the two women shared an entertained look as the blonde stood and waved her hands in mock surrender.

“Fine.” With a roll of her eyes, Natasha made her way back in the direction that she’d come from. Spotting a piece of paper on the table beside the couch, she got a good look at its subject from where she stood and gave an impressed hum before turning back to the couple that was preoccupied with the tabloid, “You know, your girlfriend’s kind of hot, Rogers.”

“What?” His tired voice was unphased as they both looked at her with the same puzzled expression.

“Nice picture.” With a smirk, Natasha nodded to the drawing before shooting them a saucy wink. At the implication, Maggie let out a low groan, flopping back onto the bed, and pulling the covers over her head as if she could disappear. The blankets hid the maroon blood that flooded her cheeks and spread outward, making her full body blush; thoroughly embarrassed her best friend had just, for all intents and purposes, seen her naked.

“Get out!” Taking a pillow from behind his back, Steve chucked it towards her with a shake of his head.

The spy easily deflected it with her arm, and she shrugged unaffected, calling over her shoulder before closing the door behind her, “Fair enough.”

3 notes · View notes